im under your fingernails too

what are these bruises
so desperately trying
to remind me?
where in this tall grass
have i forgotten what it was
that i came to see?
theres a demon where
my brain once was
and in my heart so lingers one too,
it seems;
its looking out beyond the shade
of these weeping willow trees,
its looking up above the gray
clouds now serving as my cieling.
but what should the heart chase
when there isnt even a trace?
when all its got to go on
is lipstick stains
and the faintest scent of
her perfume,
from her scented skin
under my fingernails,
and her handprints on my wrists:
theyre hers,
atleast i assume...
so whats a heart to chase
when there isnt even a trace?
oh lord she says
"love is madness!",
and when my heart's in chase
you better believe
i truly believe this!